Death Game

Chapter Thirty-Two

Evening was falling over the sea, and the first stars were showing, the sparks from the campfire flying like fireflies before the wind. John stood behind the beach dunes, the wind tugging at his hair, taking a sip of the local beer that Suua offered him.

“Is it good?” Suua asked hopefully. He was taking playing host to the visitors very seriously indeed.

“It’s good.” John said. “It’s really great beer.” It wasn’t his taste so much, malty and dark, but at least it was beer here, not tea. On a good day that was how it turned out, drinking tea in a place you’d never been before with some would-be enemies turned friends. Behind Suua, a vast number of his relatives and friends were spit-roasting fish over a fire, turning them quickly so that they wouldn’t burn. It smelled wonderful.

“I never thought it would work,” Suua said, glancing back as well to the figures limned by firelight. “I’m home. My wife, my daughter… I never thought I’d see them again. Thank you. Thank you.”

“You’re a good guy in a fight,” John said. “I’m not sure we would have made it without you.”

Jitrine came and joined them, her white robes much the worse for wear over the last few days. “You should not be drinking alcohol with a head injury,” she said disapprovingly.

“It’s just a few sips of beer,” John said, but he handed the jar back to Suua. He looked at the doctor. “What are you going to do next?”

“I’m going back to Pelagia with Ailan and Nevin,” Jitrine said. “The children are orphans, which is why they were sent as competitors for the Games in the first place. No one wanted them. So they may as well stay with me as anything else. There is much to do in Pelagia.” Jitrine looked west, toward the distant port city far out of sight along the coast. “With the High King killed aboard his airship, King Anados of Pelagia will have need of me. Perhaps it is our turn to rule the waters, without some High King in the islands who stands above us all. Perhaps it is time for the rule of men, and for us to shape this world as we will.”

“A Pelagian empire,” John said.

“It may be.” Jitrine’s eyes were serene. “And who is to say if that is good or ill?”

“Not me,” John shrugged. “It’s one of those things. One of those things about being human. Somebody’s going to step into the power vacuum, and it might as well be your King Anados. It’s got to be better. I figure he’s not going to feed on people anyhow.”

“You can be sure of that,” Jitrine said.

Teyla and Rodney came to join them, leaving Ronon and Radek tucking in to the first fish off the fire. Ronon was getting a whole fish to himself, and Radek was laughing as Suua’s wife tried to cut a piece off for him, catching it with his fingers.

“I don’t want to hear about how much I eat ever again,” Rodney declared. “Ronon and Zelenka are going to eat these people out of house and home.”

“There are many more fish where these came from,” Suua said. “Even your big friend cannot eat all the fish in the ocean.”

“Probably not,” John agreed. “But he might try.” Ronon was actually smiling. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen that before.

“Have you decided what we’re going to do about the DHD?” Rodney asked.

“What about the DHD?”

“I fixed it,” Rodney said. “That means anybody can use the gate to go in or out. Which is a problem, because it means the Wraith will be back. We can dial in and out, but so can anybody else who wants to.”

John felt Teyla stiffen beside him. “Ok, so what’s the alternative?” he asked.

“There’s the energy shield,” Rodney said. “It protects the planet like it has for thousands of years, just like the other ones we’ve encountered. The Wraith can’t come in from space. If I take the control crystal out and bring it with us, any Wraith who come through the gate will be trapped and never be able to return to their hive ships. They won’t be able to dial out, and they probably don’t have a supply of spare control crystals, so they’ll be stuck here.” He looked at Jitrine. “Your people can probably take care of a few scouts, right?”

Jitrine nodded gravely. “King Anados will put a guard on the gate day and night. You may be sure of that.” She looked at Rodney, one eyebrow rising. “But if I understand correctly, if you do this we will not be able to use the gate either.”

“Well, you haven’t been using it now,” Rodney said. “I mean, the Wraith have controlled it for centuries. So you wouldn’t be losing anything.”

“Except the opportunity to be part of the rest of the galaxy,” Teyla said quietly.

“Part of the galaxy that has Wraith all over it!” Rodney said. “The Ancients set these shields up to protect worlds that weren’t advanced enough to protect themselves, a kind of a time capsule to nurture cultures and make sure humanity survived. These people can’t take on the Wraith! If it weren’t for the energy shield, this world would have been Culled a long time ago.”

“And if you take these control crystals,” Jitrine said keenly, “The Wraith will not be able to Cull us, but we will not be able to use the Stargate either.”

“Yes,” Rodney said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Your world will be free to develop at your own pace without outside interference. Like the Prime Directive.”

“Without any knowledge of the battles fought outside on our doorstep. Without your medicines and your technology. Without your people and your things changing us,” Jitrine said. “We will remain as we have remained, in a time capsule, kept in willful ignorance.” She shook her head, and her eyes came to rest on Teyla. “Is this what you would choose for your people?”

Teyla took a deep breath. “In exchange for no more Cullings, at least for a long, long time until the energy shield eventually fails? That might be centuries, you know. You might have five hundred years of peace. It is a very great opportunity.” She took another deep breath, and her eyes avoided John’s. “I would not make that choice. Many Athosians would, and would call me traitor or criminal for speaking as I do. But I am Teyla Who Walks Through Gates. To be bound to one world, ignorant of the struggles of all humanity outside, waiting for the day when the choices of others at last determine my fate? I could not choose that.” She raised her face, the sea wind pushing her hair back from her brow. “Better to face the world with courage. Better to risk all, knowing that you will be changed, knowing that the struggle is in itself worthy.”

John swallowed.

Teyla looked at him sideways, a fleeting glance. Then her eyes met Jitrine’s. “But I cannot make that choice for you. We have the control crystal, and you must tell us what to do with it based upon the beliefs of your own people, based upon the things you think are right.”

“Why us?” Suua said, casting about uncomfortably. “How can we decide for our whole world?”

“Because you’re the ones who’re here,” John said. “That’s how it usually works.”

Jitrine looked at Suua. “What do you think, fisherman?”

Suua’s brow furrowed. “I think it’s stupid to close a door without seeing what’s on the other side.”

“A ton of Wraith are on the other side,” Rodney observed.

“Rodney,” John said.

Suua looked at Jitrine. “But what do I know? You are a learned Doctor of Pelagia. You know better than me.”

Jitrine nodded slowly, and her eyes met John’s. “In the Colleges of Pelagia we are taught this, first and above all — to seek knowledge, and to scorn no source of wisdom that there is under the sun. To choose to remain ignorant of all that happens in the rest of the galaxy in order to cling to a tenuous safety…that is a betrayal of our deepest values.” She looked at Teyla, and her smile was rueful. “But Pelagians are not all the people there are in the world, nor even the largest part. And yet we must decide for all. Perhaps this is the moment where future generations will say we went astray, and I stand now as the greatest evil our world has ever known. Perhaps I will be reviled, and perhaps the Wraith will come and I will die with the blood of thousands on my hands. But still I must choose knowledge. Leave the Stargate open. Leave the control crystal where it belongs.”

“I don’t think…” Rodney began.

“Rodney,” John said quietly. “It’s their decision. We’re not going to deactivate their Stargate without their permission. We don’t have the Prime Directive, remember?”

“We probably ought to,” Rodney said. “Future generations may not think much of us, either.”

“And that will really suck. But they weren’t here,” John said. He looked at Jitrine. “We’ll leave your Stargate intact. But you might want to tell your King Anados to get some guards over there pronto. Not everybody who comes through the gate is going to be friendly.”

“We understand that, Sheppard,” Jitrine said. “And we are not soft as you might think.”

“I didn’t think that,” John said gravely. “You’re one tough old bird.”

Jitrine broke into a wide smile, then leaned up and put her cheek to John’s. “Take care of yourself,” she said. “And tell your wife to rest that arm.”

“She’s not my wife,” John said.

Jitrine released him and went back to the fire, sliding onto the bench beside Carson, who was putting a fiberglass cast on Nevin’s wrist. He greeted her cheerfully, and she leaned in to see what he did, pointing at something about Nevin’s hand.

“She is a fine doctor,” Teyla said, watching Jitrine examining Carson’s work.

“She pretty much is,” John agreed. “Carson said she did a good job on my head, and that he’s not even going to keep me in the infirmary. That if I were going to die I would have by now.”

“That is Carson indeed,” Teyla said. Stars were glittering and the sea breeze was freshening. She pulled her jacket on one arm and he held the other side for her to slide her injured arm into the sleeve, gently working the binding over her wrist so that he didn’t jostle her shoulder too much.

“He looks like he is having a good conversation with Jitrine,” Teyla said.

“I imagine he’ll want to come back,” John said. “You know Carson. He’d be lecturing in Pelagia next week if Elizabeth would let him.”

“She might,” Teyla said.

“She might at that,” John said thoughtfully.

Rodney hunched his shoulders against the wind which ruffled his hair. He looked uncomfortable, as though he’d rather not say anything, but was doing it anyhow. “I’m glad you guys are, you know…not dead. I thought…when we saw the wrecked jumper… There were all those jackals and I had to hunt for you all over the planet and you’d gotten yourselves captured by the Wraith and…”

“We love you too, Rodney,” Teyla said. “Thank you.”

Rodney opened his mouth and shut it again. “You’re welcome,” he said quietly. He looked about, as if suddenly surprised by something. “I’m going to go see if there is any food left.” Hands in his pockets, Rodney hurried away.

Teyla looked after him. “Sometimes Rodney is very strange,” she said. “Why would he not want us to know that he was worried about us?”

“That’s just Rodney,” John said. “He’s a good guy.”

“I know,” Teyla said with a smile.

John zipped up his jacket. The nights could get cold, here on the edge of the desert. But they wouldn’t be staying the night, thanks to his team. Maybe they were all getting better at this. “We’re all in one piece, anyhow.”

“More or less,” Teyla agreed with a quick glance at his forehead. “I am afraid my book is ruined.”

“Your… Oh, Watership Down.” It took him a moment. “Well, if it is I can probably find you another copy or get it sent out on the Daedalus’ next run.”

“It is not right to ask for another gift because you have ruined the first one,” she said.

“It is if you ruined it saving the ass of the guy who gave it to you,” John said. He stopped, hesitating. “I’m glad you like it.”

“The stories of your people,” she said, tilting her chin up as though she could see his world among the distant stars. Of course she couldn’t. They were too far away. “It is through one’s stories that you come to know them, through the stories they love and the stories they tell, the ones they embrace close to their hearts. Stories are powerful things.”

John looked up at the alien stars, so close in the velvety darkness, moving in their unfamiliar courses. He’d dared to imagine this once, long before life intervened, a different story, an impossible one. He cleared his throat. “There was this kid who loved Star Wars,” he said. “And he wanted to be Han Solo. The stars over his back yard might be the stars of Hoth or the Tion Hegemony or Corellia. Gotta find you a copy of Han Solo and the Lost Legacy next time I’m on Earth.”

“I will look forward to it,” Teyla said formally. Then something in her face changed, stilled. “This Han Solo. Did he die young?”

John shook his head. “Nah. He had some close calls and some really bad ones, but no, he didn’t die. He had the fastest ship in the fleet and he married the Princess and she became President of the New Republic and he was her consort. And they stuck together through thick and thin, a whole lot of work healing the galaxy after the Empire.”

“That sounds like a very good ending,” she said thoughtfully. “I suppose if he had wanted to die he would have.”

John shrugged. “There are always plenty of ways to die if you want to.” The sea wind lifted her hair, pulling it back from her face as though baring a question. “What story… What story did you want to be in?”

Teyla looked at him sideways, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Once there was a queen, and she walked out of darkness, and Death made a cloak around her to guard her passage, and thus they came to the City of Emege where every tower was alight for joy. I will tell you the whole story one day.”

“It’s a deal,” John said. He glanced back toward the cooking fires. “As soon as Carson’s done, let’s pack up,” John said. “If we can pry Ronon and Radek away from the food, that is. Let’s go home.”